After the Battle
by blackstrawberries
Summary: Does Ginny really fancy Harry? Does Ron really fancy Hermione? When will Percy ever stop boring everyone with a full account of his job description? SU.


It wasn't hard to find information on Malfoy's Wizengamot hearing – a few _Accio_s by Hermione in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement did the trick.

"Lucius Xavier Malfoy," Hermione said, shuffling through bits of parchment. "Scheduled Wizengamot hearing on the fifth of October."

"Merlin, I'm on patrol that day," Ron groaned.

"_Ron_," Hermione hissed. "It's a confidential hearing, and I'm sure the ruling will be all over the _Daily Prophet _the next day. Be reasonable." She carefully placed the papers back in the file cabinet. "At any rate, I doubt they would let a junior Auror in there for any reason."

"_Unless_," Ron countered, "that specific junior Auror was placed on guard duty for that particular courtroom on _that _particular day."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "_Really_, Ron. I thought you were assigned patrol in Albania that entire week!"

"That can be changed with a few simple spells, can't it?" Ron's tone subtly slipped from confident to begging. "Please, Hermione?"

"No," she said, curling her lip. "You would do well not to interfere with your assignments. Why do you want to watch this so badly anyway?"

"It's _Malfoy_," Ron pointed out, as if this were obvious. "And the Wizengamot usually groups family trials together, so his git of a son will be there too! Oh, how I'd love to see Draco convicted…." His eyes were dreamy.

"Ahem," Hermione said loudly. "Is Harry in on this?"

"Er…" Ron trailed off. "I mean, that is, to say…. Harry's gone up a level, he's an intermediate Auror now, I'm sure that he wouldn't…."

"All the more reason to refuse your offer. As tempting as it sounds, no."

* * *

"What color tie, d'you reckon?"

Ginny bit her lip, examining the two Harry held up before her. "The green one. It brings out your eyes. Whatever happened to the one with gold stripes?"

"Teddy dropped it in his soup the other night," Harry answered cheerfully, doing the tie around his neck. "Did I ever tell you how attractive you are in an apron?"

Ginny whacked him upside the head with a wooden spoon. "Not now. Mum's gone berserk. _Why _Charlie chose to get married today of all days…."

Molly rushed past them suddenly, nearly scattering a basket of onions everywhere. "Pardon," she said hastily, gathering the few she'd dropped into her apron and running off.

"She does seem a bit… er… frazzled."

"No kidding. We've got all the wedding guests from Bill's wedding, _plus _fifty of Charlie's Romanian acquaintances to feed. Mum's gone insane trying to come up with a wedding menu, the marquis hasn't been set up yet…"Ginny shook her head. "Complete chaos."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Harry said earnestly.

"Nope, except to get out of the way. Don't you have a patrol in five minutes?"

Harry checked his battered but beloved pocketwatch. "Merlin, it's already six!" He Apparated on the spot.

Just as he left, the flames in the fireplace turned an alarming shade of green and Ron stumbled into the parlor. "Morning, Gin," he said, ruffling her hair as he passed. "Where's Mum? And what smells so _divine_?"

"Stop your mouth watering for _one day_, will you?" Ginny demanded. "Mum's out back, yelling at some guys from the tent service. Go out there and calm her down."

"Not on my life," Ron said, plucking a mini-tart from the tray on the counter and earning a sharp slap to the neck. "Ow!"

"They're not _for you_," Ginny emphasized, whisking the tray into the oven. "You'd be dead if Mum had seen you, you git."

"I've never heard you so irritated. Not even when George dyed all your delicates orange."

"That was _George? _You said it was Fred!"

"Well, Fred tucked flobberworms into my sheets that week," Ron said, slightly disgruntled.

"No, _that _was me," Ginny said chirpily. "Dice some onions, will you?"

Ron brandished a large cutting knife – which Ginny abruptly snatched from his hand. "Hey!"

"Sorry, Ron," Ginny said, sliding the knife back into the drawer. "But you're not exactly – er… _dexterous_."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I can handle _onions_, little sister."

"In case you've forgotten, you are of age and your wand is perfectly capable of doing that task for you," Ginny pointed out.

"Right. Where's Harry?"

Ginny attemped to supervise the onions and separate the yolk out of an egg at the same time, to no avail. Groaning, she dumped the mess into the sink and said, "On patrol. Why?"

"Thought I'd catch up with him." Ron scooped the onions into a bowl. "Gin, what d'you think Harry would say if I decided to… er… quit?"

"Quit what?" Ginny said absentmindedly.

"You know…. Being an Auror."

Ginny dropped a spoon into the simmering stew. "What? You want to _quit? _Why?"

"I'm just not cut out for the entire business."

Ginny fished the spoon out of the stew and rinsed it off. "Ron, honestly. Not everyone becomes a top-level Auror within a week."

"That's the thing, Gin. _Harry's _already a full-time Auror. Well before I am, I might add."

"That's because he's Harry! The entire Wizarding community knows him. They've probably just advanced him a bit because of all he's been through."  
"And _I _haven't been through an equal amount?" Ron said indignantly, accidentally tipping the pot into the sink.

"_Ron!_" Ginny said exasperatedly, swiftly righting it. "Damn it, Ron, half the stew's gone down the drain!"

"Right," Ron said sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Ugh, _honestly!_" Ginny began dicing meat and potatoes. "The least you can do is start cutting up some carrots. With your _wand_, this time."

"Back to my point," Ron interrupted. "I've been through just as much."

"Well, most wizards didn't view you as a significant asset. I, for one, always thought you were a bit… _sidekick_."

"_Sidekick – _!"

"Watch the size of your head, dear brother of mine. My point being, most wizards didn't even know about you until you suddenly turned up alongside Harry at Hogwarts."

"I've had a small mention in Rita Skeeter's biography," Ron said mulishly.

Ginny rolled her eyes, not for the first time that morning. "Plus, Harry had much better marks in school."

"Well, if you're done degrading your own brother in favor of your _boyfriend_," Ron spat. "I'm done here." He stalked off, tipping over the pot again in the process.

* * *

At long last, by the time the guests were to arrive, Harry and Hermione had returned from the Ministry and dressed in their best – Harry in his emerald-green dress robes, Hermione in a light, flowing dress reminiscent of the one she'd donned at Bill's wedding. The marquis had been set up, the garden weeded, the food prepared, the chairs arranged in rows, the seating charts distributed. The younger ones – that is, Ginny, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and George – were to be the ushers for the day, Bill standing along Charlie as best man.

"I'm rather looking forward to meeting this Ana," Hermione said, as the five positioned themselves by the entrance. "They met each other in Romania, you say?"

"Yeah. Charlie was taming his dragons, Ana happened to be walking by and tripped over its tail, the whole bit," Ron said, shuffling through the programs in his hand.

"Are Mr. and Mrs. Dimitru here yet?" Molly said frantically, straightening a chair that she had just stumbled on. "Why is this arrangement missing a honeysuckle?"

"She's got it down to the _honeysuckles?_" Harry whispered into Ginny's hair, tucking the missing flower behind her ear. Ginny grinned.

"Where's the minister? He was supposed to arrive _five… _oh, there you are, Mr. Wolvington, please, take a seat… Ginevra! Put that flower back where it belongs this instant!"

Ginny shrugged, sliding the flower out of her hair and tucking it back into the arrangement.

In a matter of moments, gaggles of wizards and witches began lining up at the entrance to the tent, waiting to be seated. Madam Pomfrey, Headmistress McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick arrived in one group, ushered to their seats by Ron. Hagrid arrived next, and Harry and Ginny were soon parted by the arrival of Luna and Neville.

At last, the guests were seated, and the ushers took their own seats in the second row of chairs.

The Wizard Symphony, whom Mrs. Weasley had specially booked for the occasion, began playing the wedding march, and the bride appeared at the opening of the tent.

Ana was beautiful, Ginny thought admittedly. Her thick, chestnut hair cascaded gently over her lithe shoulders, her hourglass figure emphasized by a simple white dress. She walked gracefully upon the arm of her father, a formidable character with thick eyebrows and a sloped forehead.

Finally, once the incredibly slow walk down the aisle was concluded at the altar, the minister began.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…."

Ginny was instantly distracted from the ceremony as Harry took her hand, gently stroking the tops of her knuckles with his fingertips. "You're tense."

"I am," Ginny whispered. "If anything goes wrong, I'm held responsible."

"I thought Ana's sister was the wedding coordinator?" Harry said, a worried expression crossing his features.

"Of course, but…." Ginny sighed. "The wedding _is _held in our backyard, after all, and I was responsible for most of the food, fetching the dress, ordering the rings… I don't know what Ana's sister did this entire time."

Someone shushed them from behind.

"Charles Gideon Weasley, do you take Ana Elizabeth Dimitru…."

In front of them, Mrs. Weasley was sobbing quietly into a lace handkerchief.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great honor to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Weasley! You may now kiss your bride!"

As Charlie bent down to triumphantly kiss his new wife, doves were released, golden balloons floating up to the top of the tent. The Wizard Symphony began playing an upbeat tune, their violins and pianos suddenly replaced by guitars and drums.

"Will everyone please stand up!"

The chairs rearranged themselves around tables, the grass replaced with a shimmering golden dance floor. Harry grabbed Ginny's wrist and gently guided her to a table.

"Have I ever told you how lovely you look in gold?" Harry said quietly.

Ginny had picked a simple golden dress with a sweetheart neckline and a knee-length skirt for the wedding. She and Hermione had picked it out together one day in Hogsmeade. "Thanks."

They sat down at a table by the entrance, furthest away from the dance floor. Employed help began entering the tent, bearing trays of appetizers and champagne.

After several songs, during which Auntie Muriel managed to drown herself in champagne and cause somewhat of a scandal with one of the Weasley cousins and Ron accidentally stumbled head-first into the wedding cake, Ginny abruptly stood, grabbing Harry by the hand.

"What is it?" he asked, perplexed.

"You and I," Ginny began, placing his hand on her waist, "are going to dance."

* * *

"What a night, eh?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, slipping his robes over his head and exchanging it for a night shirt. "Didn't know Hermione could drink that much if she was up to it."

"Nearly wrestled me into a bedroom, she did," Ron said nonchalantly.

Charlie choked on his tea.

The night passed without much event. Harry woke at nearly nine the next morning, sleep-deprived and disgruntled.

"I do hope Ana and Charlie have arrived safely," Molly said anxiously, magicking several platters of fried tomatoes onto the miniscule kitchen table. "Help yourself, Harry, you're looking a bit peaky."

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, immediately reaching for one. Ginny walked by, Teddy in her arms.

"Now, none of you can stay idle for long," Mrs. Weasley said sternly, heaping eggs on top of the tomatoes. "The wizards from the marquis company refuse to take down the tent, so I'm going to have to enlist the boys." She cast a significant look in George and Percy's direction. "As for the girls, all the plates and silverware from last night have to be washed and dried."

Harry immediately jumped to his feet and set out for the backyard, where the tent remained. With some help from George, the two disassembled the dance floor and had most of the tables and chairs folded up by noon.

For lunch, Mrs. Weasley sent out a tray of sandwiches. They ate in the shade of the familiar tree just below the Weasleys' paddock, Hermione looking pale (Ginny confided to Harry that Hermione had spent most of the night vomiting in the bathroom).

By nightfall, the remains of the wedding had been either packed up or put away. Andromeda, Neville, and Luna joined Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys in the backyard for a haphazard dinner of leftovers – crepes, beef Wellington, and stew, with treacle tart and wedding cake for dessert.

Afterward, they all sat around talking – Mr. Weasley and most of the men discussing the Quidditch rankings, Percy boring Fleur and Bill with details about his work, the girls whispering and giggling in a corner, passing baby Teddy around. Ron and Harry sat alone under the tree, passing a bottle of firewhisky back-and-forth.

"D'you think I should ask Hermione to be my girlfriend?" Ron said in a low, husky voice, swigging a dangerous amount of alcohol. "I mean, it's obvious that we're romantic interests, but just to confirm it all, you reckon?"

"I still haven't decided whether I really fancy Ginny or not," Harry said quietly, as he was slightly more sober than his friend. "Seems like she's interested. Am I getting all the wrong signals?"

Ron downed the rest of the bottle and promptly collapsed to the ground, snoring.


End file.
